Santobono's lap and fling it into some dark hollow without saying a
word. The priest would understand him. The other one, the young
Frenchman, would perhaps not even notice the incident. Besides, that
mattered little, for he would not even attempt to explain his action. And
he felt quite calm again when the idea occurred to him to throw the
basket away while the carriage passed through the Porta Furba, a couple
of miles or so before reaching Rome. That would suit him exactly; in the
darkness of the gateway nothing whatever would be seen.

"We stopped too long at that _osteria_," he suddenly exclaimed aloud,
turning towards Pierre. "We sha'n't reach Rome much before six o'clock.
Still you will have time to dress and join your friend." And then without
awaiting the young man's reply he said to Santobono: "Your figs will
arrive very late, Abbe."

"Oh!" answered the priest, "his Eminence receives until eight o'clock.
And, besides, the figs are not for this evening. People don't eat figs in
the evening. They will be for to-morrow morning." And thereupon he again
relapsed into silence.

"For to-morrow morning--yes, yes, no doubt," repeated Prada. "And the
Cardinal will be able to thoroughly regale himself if nobody helps him to
eat the fruit."

Thereupon Pierre, without pausing to reflect, exclaimed: "He will no
doubt eat it by himself, for his nephew, Prince Dario, must have started
to-day for Naples on a little convalescence trip to rid himself of the
effects of the accident which laid him up during the last month." Then,
having got so far, the young priest remembered to whom he was speaking,
and abruptly stopped short.

The Count noticed his embarrassment. "Oh! speak on, my dear Monsieur
Froment," said he, "you don't offend me. It's an old affair now. So that
young man has left, you say?"

"Yes, unless he has postponed his departure. However, I don't expect to
find him at the palazzo when I get there."

For a moment the only sound was that of the continuous rumble of the
wheels. Prada again felt worried, a prey to the discomfort of
uncertainty. Why should he mix himself up in the affair if Dario were
really absent? All the ideas which came to him tired his brain, and he
ended by thinking aloud: "If he has gone away it must be for propriety's
sake, so as to avoid attending the Buongiovanni reception, for the
Congregation of the Council met this morning to give its decision in the
suit which the Countess has brought